Summer vacation was never supposed to be like this. It was bad enough Naomi had to be shipped off to her dad's home for the summer and deal with her half-brother Gavin, but when the siblings are forced to spend their break with their greatgrandmother in upstate New York, everything changes. An investigation into the strange disappearance of their great-grandfather forces them to retrace his footsteps. They discover a gateway between worlds and encounter extraordinary creatures in a land where the people are desperate to escape the coming of a shade lord. To survive their adventure, Naomi and Gavin must settle their differences and find the elusive shadow gate that will take them home again. THE SHADOW GATE CHRONICLES: Book 1: The Last Shadow Gate Book 2: A Veil of Shadows (Coming 2017) Book 3: The Shadow of War (Coming 2018) Praise for THE LAST SHADOW GATE: "If this book had been around when I was a kid, I’d have held it right up there with The Chronicles of Narnia and Lord of the Rings.” - Sunshine Somerville, Author of THE KOTA SERIES "You won't want to miss out on the thrilling yet perilous world beyond the shadow gates!" - J. Cornell Michel, Author of JORDAN'S BRAINS *If you love fast-paced, YA Fantasy, THE LAST SHADOW GATE is the book for you.*

FAQ:

Where did the idea for The Last Shadow Gate come from?
This book was in the draft phase for over a decade. I based the characters on my kids
and as they grew and developed their own personalities I allowed the characters in the
book to do the same. It’s been a labor of love and seeing it finally in print has been a
wonderful experience. Every time I read through it I see my daughter and son on every
page.

Where do you get your ideas?
Ideas for stories come from the strangest places. I never sit down and say ‘let’s write a
book’ there’s usually a spark that comes out of nowhere. It’s the littlest things that lead
to the big ideas for me. I’m never in a hurry when it comes to writing so I’ll sit on
something for quite a while and let it build until I can see an entire adventure from
beginning to end. In that way, by the time I sit down to write I usually know exactly
where I’m going.

How do you find the time to write?
As a father of three, time is always a challenge. Writing is a hobby for me. It’s
something I’m passionate about but my focus is usually needed elsewhere. A majority
of my writing is done in the quiet of a late night when everyone else is in bed. I take my
shots whenever I can get them. I’ve been known to disappear for a short time here and
there if I see an opening for a writing opportunity but a majority of the good stuff I get
down on paper is done long after everyone else is snoring.

The Last Shadow Gate
(Sample Chapters)
1

Gavin Walker sat in a dining room chair at the head of the table. His dirty-blond bangs were pushed
to one side revealing a wide-eyed expression. His mouth hung open, and he was at a loss for words,
which was something that didn’t happen often in the twelve-year-old’s daily life.

“The whole summer?”

His father stood at the opposite end of the table resting his hands on the back of a chair. The
similarities between father and son were unmistakable. Mr. Walker’s expression was calm, unlike his
son’s overreaction. Gavin could see his father wasn’t going to back down, so he resorted to
repetition.

“The whole summer?”

Mr. Walker didn’t budge.

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

“But Dad.”

“It won’t kill you,” Mr. Walker said. “You haven’t seen Mama Walker in over two years and she’s not
getting any younger.” His face was stern. “Look, she’s nearly eighty-five and I’m not sure how many
more opportunities the two of you will have to spend time with her.”

Mama Walker was Gavin’s great-grandmother. She lived alone on the outskirts of Albany, New York,
in the town of Gum Springs. To a twelve-year-old boy from Southern California, Gum Springs was on
the far side of the moon. Gavin didn’t know Mama Walker very well.

“But she’s crazy, Dad,” he said. “You said so yourself.”

Mr. Walker’s brow wrinkled.

“I don’t think she’s crazy. She’s lonely since Papa went away and…”

He went on, but Gavin stopped listening. He crossed his arms and sulked. He wanted to protest, but
he already knew his father wasn’t going to give in. He focused on something else he’d heard.

“What do you mean by the two of you?”

Mr. Walker smiled and hesitated.

“Well,” he said, “that’s the rest of the story. I want you and your sister to spend the summer together
with Mama Walker.”

Gavin rolled his eyes. Naomi was his half-sister who lived in Florida with her mother. The two
siblings were forced to tolerate each other over summer vacations and an occasional holiday break.
She was older than Gavin by three years and reminded him of it every chance she could. “What
about football camp?”

He was playing dirty now.

“Already took care of it,” Mr. Walker said, and Gavin’s smile disappeared. “First day of camp is at the
end of August, and it just so happens that you’ll get back with plenty of time.”

“You already bought the ticket?” Gavin asked as his voice filled with dread.

“Yep,” Mr. Walker said, “school’s out next Friday, and you and I fly out on Saturday.”

“You’re coming?”

“I’m flying with you. We’ll meet Naomi in Albany then I’m going to stay a few days and fly back.”

“Very brave of you,” Gavin said.

Mr. Walker got up, came around the table, and took a seat next to his son. He put his hand on
Gavin’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I know I’m asking a lot, but come on, Gavin, do this for
me,” he said. “Your mother and I have talked about this for a while. Mama Walker has been distant
from the family for a long time. This will be good for her and good for the both of you kids too.” He let
go and stood up. “You know, you might even have a good time.”

Gavin doubted that very much.

♦

Destin, Florida is a popular vacation destination. It’s known for white, sandy beaches, and clear, blue
water. That beauty is a part of life for the people who live in Destin and across the bridge in the city
of Fort Walton Beach. Naomi Walker happened to be one of those lucky people.

She sat on the school bus staring out at the clear, blue water counting down the days until summer.
The ninth grade was particularly difficult for Naomi. She calculated she’d spent more days grounded
during this year than all of the years before it combined. She wasn’t a bad student, quite the
opposite, she enjoyed most of her classes.

She’d always had an interest in science and history, but this year she spent more time interested in
gossip and boys than any academic pursuit. Naomi’s mother was forgiving for the most part. She
and her step-father were willing to give Naomi some slack as she dealt with becoming a young
woman. Her father was a different story altogether.

Naomi knew her father lived in California, but sometimes she thought he was somewhere closer to
Mars. Her parents divorced when she was young, but Mr. Walker did everything in his power to keep
a close relationship. Naomi cherished that bond as a little girl; however, her needs had changed over
the past few years. In a short time she’d be shipped off to California while all her friends would be
having the time of their lives.

She decided looking at the beach was only making matters worse and spun around to stare at the
back of the seat in front of her. Chloe, her little sister, sat next to her. All of Chloe’s attention was
focused on the screen of a hot pink, handheld game. Naomi pulled the game from her hand for no
good reason, and the two fought over it for the rest of the ride home.

The walk from the bus stop to the front door felt longer than usual. Naomi passed the time by
snatching her hand away from Chloe as the little girl tried to hold on. At fifteen, Naomi was at a
peculiar crossroads in her life where adulthood and individualism was a goal and childhood just plain
stunk. To Chloe, only seven, holding hands was still all the rage.

“Mom, we’re home.”

Naomi threw her backpack on the sofa and walked to the kitchen with Chloe close on her heels.

“What about peanut butter?” Chloe asked.

“What about no,” Naomi said.

Chloe stuck her tongue out. “Fine then,” she said, “I’ll make one myself.”

The little girl pulled a chair in from the dining room as Naomi poked through the cabinets and settled
on a half-finished bag of chips. Naomi slumped down on the couch, leaving Chloe to make a mess in
the kitchen. She began a never-ending search for something to watch on TV with the chips in her lap
and the television remote secured. The sliding door in the rear of the house opened and closed,
announcing their mother’s arrival.

“We’re home, Mom,” she said.

“Just finishing up the laundry.”

Naomi was convinced her mother did the laundry for the entire block.

“What in the world?”

Naomi grinned.

She knew her mom’s outburst had something to do with the mess Chloe was making
in the kitchen.
A moment later her mother made it into the living room. Her hair was frazzled and her
eyes were focused in a disapproving glare.

“What?” Naomi asked.

“You could have helped her.”

“She’s not a baby, you know.”

Her mother sat down on the love seat. “I want you to turn that off, Naomi. We need to talk about
something.”

Naomi didn’t like the tone her mother took. This was the tone she used when delivering bad news. It
was that very same tone she’d used to tell her and Chloe their beloved cat, Tinker, was in heaven.
Naomi eyed her mother closely as she hit the mute button on the remote control.

“Your father and I have had a long talk about your summer vacation,” her mother said.

Naomi pulled
a handful of chips out of the bag and ate through them in an unnecessarily loud manner.

“And…” her
mother’s voice rose to match the chip-chomping, “I believe we’ve come to an agreement.”

“I can stay here for the summer?” Naomi asked.

“No.”
Naomi sank back into the couch.

“Your father wants you and Gavin to spend the summer together.”

“What’s so different about that?” Naomi asked. “I have to put up with him every summer.”

“Yes, but—” Her mother was interrupted by a ring. She pulled the phone out of her back pocket,
looked at the number, and smiled. “I’ll let him explain.”

Naomi took the phone from her mother and answered it. She recognized her father’s voice at once.

“Hey, Dad.” She saw her mother smiling and noted it was the smile you give when you feel sorry for
something. Naomi’s face scrunched as Mr. Walker explained what awaited her on summer vacation.

Michael W. Garza often finds himself wondering where his inspiration will come from next and in what form his imagination will bring it to life. The outcomes regularly surprise him and it’s always his ambition to amaze those curious enough to follow him and take in those results. He hopes everyone will find something that frightens, surprises, or simply astonishes them. Contact & Social Media Information: mwgarza@yahoo.com www.mwgarza.com facebook.com/mwgarza twitter.com/@mwgarza amazon.com/author/michaelwgarza

Thursday, December 8, 2016

This is my weekend read!! Pretty sad that I dropped this book and it got all muddy on the top of my SIGNED copy!!! It is now ruined but hopefully I can look pass this and just enjoy the story. I really do love the cover! High heels and hay bales oh my what will Roxie have gotten herself into now.

The post-apocalyptic series readers are describing as "one of the best post-apocalypse stories I've ever read."

Once infected, the virus shuts down organs, kills nerve impulses and even reprograms the way we think. The virus becomes us.

But the process takes eight hours.

If you only had eight hours left to live, what would you do?

In response to the Ebola epidemic in West Africa, a Special Forces team is sent on a military exercise to curtail future outbreaks. But when they encounter infected civilians, they soon discover they’ve entered a real-life nightmare, and must put their training to the test.

Tuesday, December 6, 2016

Three ducks escape from a university lab experiment and find
sanctuary in a fraternity house. They discover human beings can be their
friends – and enemies. Their adventures begin righting wrongs – and getting
even.

The humans in the lab coats turned
off the lights and left the room, shutting the door behind them. Quock listened
carefully so he could hear them walk down the hallway and out through another
doorway to the outside world.

Quock waited until there was no
other sound in the building and he quacked at Guk who he could see in the cage
next to him in the dim evening light from the lab windows.

“Guk? Are
you sleeping?”

Guk wearily
lifted his head from under his wing and quacked, “I was.”

“Is Op
asleep?” Quock asked.

Guk looked
over at Op’s plump, feathery figure in the cage next to him and then at all the
sleeping Pekin ducks in all the
other cages. He said, “Everybody’s asleep. Those drugs they give us make us
sleepy. Why aren’t you asleep?”

Quock
looked around apprehensively. “Something’s happened to me.”

Guk was
wide awake by now. He stared at Quock.“Like what?”

“It’s like
a cloud was lifted from my head,” Quock explained. “Suddenly I can understand.”

Guk almost
laughed. “Understand what? It’s the drugs they give us. They can make you think
all kinds of crazy things.”

Quock
stared back at Guk. “No, I mean it. I can understand
them. I know what they are saying.”

“You mean –
the humans in the white coats?”

“Yes. The
humans in the white coats. I can understand them now. And I can read what they write.”

Guk shook
his head. “There’s no way. It’s just gobbledygook.”

“Oh, no
it’s not,” Quock shook his head.
“It’s serious.”

Guk looked
around at all the sleeping ducks in the room.

“How serious?”

Quock took
a breath and whispered. “They are going
to eat us.”

John Arnold has had his work presented in either a reading or production
at American Conservatory Theater (San Francisco) playreading series; California
Playwrights Festival, Sacramento; Out and About Theater, Minneapolis;
Playwrights Center, San Francisco; Sacramento Theater Company; West Coat
Ensemble, Hollywood; Aloha Theater, Kainaliu, Hawaii; Moving Arts, Los
Angeles; Mercury Cafe, Denver; First Stage, Los Angeles; The Theater-Studio,
New York, Prince William Sound Community College, Valdez, Alaska; Theater of
Western Springs, Illinois; and others. His monologue “Bit” is featured on
Fourth Wall Review.com. His screenplays have been finalists in the Art
Color “Digital
Cinema International Film Festival, Montreal,
the San Francisco Global Movie Fest, Indie Film Fest, Switzerland
and the Swedish International Film Festival.

His play “Saint George” was winner of the 2016 Play
Competition – Thistle Dew Theater, Sacramento.
His monologue “Aunt Velma Considers Changing Religion” was part of the 2016 One
Act Play Festival, Phoenix Stage Company, Connecticut.

He is author of “Duck
Squad,” “Autobiography of a Duck”
and “Going Home” - available
via Amazon.com.

Once administered, the cure heals organs, rebuilds neurons, and even reunites us with our consciousness. The cure heals us.

But the cure will only exist for the next eight hours.

If your daughter had the power to save the world, what would you do?

Chris Smith has eight hours to get his cured daughter Maisie to the research ship anchored off the coast of Brighton or lose the only chance of salvation the human race has. He must battle raging undead hordes and evade a powerful warrior goddess hell-bent on retaining power in the new world order.

Monday, December 5, 2016

Once infected, the virus shuts down organs, kills nerve impulses and even reprograms the way we think. The virus becomes us.

But the process takes eight hours.

If the only remaining member of your family was infected, what would you do?

Chris Smith has eight hours to get his infected daughter Maisie to the rumored cure or lose her forever. The only things in his way: a marauding army of killer zombies, a self-declared warrior goddess and a secret buried deep in his past.

Sunday, December 4, 2016

The post-apocalyptic series readers are describing as "one of the best post-apocalypse stories I've ever read." Once infected, the virus shuts down organs, kills nerve impulses and even reprograms the way we think. The virus becomes us.But the process takes eight hours.If you only had eight hours left to live, what would you do?For Chris Smith, that decision has been made for him. He’s infected, and returns home to find the rest of his family undead or missing, save his youngest daughter Maisie. He’s never been much of a father, but can he make up for it now in the final few hours of his life and find somewhere safe for her to survive?

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